


The Wrong Answer

by FirenzeSun



Series: Answers [3]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottoming from the Top, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, basically flint is turned on by silver killing dufresne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6869704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirenzeSun/pseuds/FirenzeSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silver moaned, and Flint went to his ear to whisper dirty words to undo him. "I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you and I want you to remember how it felt killing him. I want you to feel how you felt when you heard the sound of his skull cracking. I want you to remember that feeling and for it to be because of me."</p><p>Silver hands tightened over Flint's biceps. "Why?"</p><p>"Because the next time you feel that power, the next time you kill someone or you command someone to do as you will, I want you to think of me. I want you to remember that I'm your anchor, that this," he said and his eyes were intense on Silver's, "<em>this</em> is something we share."</p><p>---------</p><p>Canon divergence for 3x07</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Answer

**Author's Note:**

> So this can be read on it's own as long as you know that there's no Madi in this (hey, I started this series right after watching 3x04 I didn't know I was going to love her so much.)  
> The only warning is that I describe how Dufresne is killed.

Another performance. Another public. Other words. The same task, swoon men to follow Captain Flint. Everything had went up to plan. And with confidence, he delivered the last words of his speech. "And I assure you, those men will hear from us again."

So he was leaving, his mission accomplished.

"Is that it?" a familiar voice said, raising a challenge, something he had not planed. A man who wasn't captivated by his speech. He turned to face him. "Surely there must be more."

Dufresne had got up and was walking towards him, clearly believing himself superior to Silver. "Surely, if Captain Flint were truly alive," he said, "he can do better than to send a handful of men led by half a man in the dead of night to deliver a threat as weak as this. A threat that amounts to what?" he paused for dramatic effect, and then lowered his voice to give it a mocking spooky tone, "Fear my name."

Silver dropped the book on the table with a loud thud, he was going to meet the challenge. A resolution had formed when he heard the derogatory tone in which he had called him "half a man" and it had settled once he looked down on Flint's name. Silver let Dufresne continue talking, knowing that his insults would not go unanswered.

"Contented men have short memories and they have little reason to fear the dark.  
Captain Flint's name is already half forgotten. As for you," Dufresne said turning it even more personal. Silver looked him in the eyes, knowing that every word Dufresne said would help pool the darkness inside of him. Dufresne continued, "I know enough of you to know that even whole, you were unworthy of half the attention we paid to you. And now, as a goddamn invalid, you expect that to change?"

Each word gave him more poison, more strength. And if there was any lingering doubt, it died away with the word 'invalid' being tossed at him. He grabbed, unnoticed by Dufresne or the rest of the people in the tavern, one of the cups that laid on the table. He took a breath to focus his anger, his hate, his darkness and he charged.

As planned, Dufresne fell to the floor with the force of the hit. Silver threw the cup away and walked towards Dufresne, looking with no mercy at the man he was going to kill. Dufresne knew it and he looked at him one last time before he raised his metal leg.

No hesitation, just pure darkness. Silver used all his strength and trampled Dufresne's skull. It wasn't cold blooded murder because his blood was running hot through his veins. But one time wasn't enough. He did it again and blood was spattered onto his face. And again, and again. He gave a cry with each hit, releasing his anger, his hate to being reducing to an invalid. This would prove him, this would prove everyone.

He recovered his breath while looking at his kill, at the crushed and bloodied skull of the man who had dared to defy him. When he raised his eyes he owned the room. He felt calm and centered in his darkness.

"Tomorrow you will join us," he said confidently, "or you will all be looking over your shoulders for the rest of your lives." He could almost smile because he knew that right know, these men in the tavern where terrified of him. "My name is John Silver and I've got a long fucking memory."

.

Flint watched at the man retelling what had happened in the tavern. His brow was furrowed and his mood gloomy if not worried. He couldn't deny he had a certain _admiration_ for Silver in this moment, for the power he had showed if the tale that their men told was to be believed. It could even be describe as pride, his darkness was proud of Silver's coming up to the surface. However, his main emotion right now was concern, he wanted to be there to catch Silver while he fell through the abyss.

"Where is he?" Flint asked to DeGroot who was behind him giving orders about how to steer the ship.

"He went straight to Dr. Howell," DeGroot answered, knowing about who his Captain was talking about.

Flint nodded to acknowledge DeGroot's answer and went to the doctor's cabin. Upon entering the room he saw Howell preparing the cloth to create a new bandage for Silver, and Silver sitting on one of the tables, his damaged leg over it.

"Are you all right?" Flint asked softly.

Silver was too wrapped out in his pain to interpret the question as anything else. "I didn't feel it when I struck down on him. Didn't feel it when we made our escape, but," a twinge of pain contorted his face, "I feel it now."

"I wasn't talking about the leg," Flint said, and he noticed Silver tensing in response. If he was going to get him to talk about this, it was going to be in private, where Silver could feel free of letting go of his mask. "Give us a moment, please."

Flint stared down to the floor for the seconds that took Dr. Howell and his assistant to leave the room, pondering about what words to say.

"You were right," he confessed, walking closer to Silver. "About the toll it took, playing this part. Losing Miranda. The things that losing Miranda drove me to." Silver wouldn't look at him, so he continued staring ahead. "So I know what you're feeling in the moment."

At that, Silver raised his head to see him. "I perceived its effects on you. What I assumed was sorrow, loneliness. And worst of all terror at the thing you were becoming." And Flint had to look away from Silver, still not used for someone to see him so clearly. "There is an element of this journey into the dark that," Silver paused, contemplating, "I'm only now beginning to appreciate."

"What's that?" Flint asked with what was either hope or weakness.

"How good it feels," Silver said looking at him fixedly.

Recognition passed through their eyes. Their darkness recognized each other as equals, as partners. Flint's hand went instinctively to Silver's cheek, holding him, keeping him afloat. The kiss that followed was inevitable. It was determined, passionate, _powerful_. It was two greedy souls claiming each other with the conviction that they held control.

Flint ended the kiss resolutely, and with eyes dark with lust and slightly out of breath, he spoke, "I'll see you at my cabin when Dr. Howell is done with you." Silver glared at him for not continuing with what he had started, but there was no real heat behind it.

.

Despite limping more than usual, Silver's stance demanded respect and the men moved away to let him walk. He opened the captain's door without knocking, both because he knew his visit was welcomed and because he had fucking earned it. Yet, once the door was closed and locked behind him, something in his posture dropped and something remained.

"You really believe that now you can enter without bothering to knock?" Flint said from the captain's chair.

"I just did, didn't it?" Silver said with a smirk, walking towards the captain

"I think you're forgetting who's in charge here," Flint said standing up and facing Silver, towering over him.

As reply, all that Silver gave him was a defiant smirk, which Flint answered with one of his own. They stayed there for a moment challenging each other with their eyes. But Silver had this newfound power, this exhilaration that killing a man with pure brute strength gave him, so he was unmoving. Eventually, Flint was the one who surrendered with a grunt, he grabbed Silver by his neck and kissed him.

It was a fire that consumed, that was born in the deepest part of their guts and it went through one another through their lips, their tongues. It was a battle of powers, it was a way to establish dominance. It was a light that signaled "I get you" in a world of darkness.

When Silver bit Flint's lower lip, Flint grabbed Silver's ass and pressed him against his body to create delicious friction between their growing erections. Silver moaned, and Flint went to his ear to whisper dirty words to undo him. "I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you and I want you to remember how it felt killing him. I want you to feel how you felt when you heard the sound of his skull cracking. I want you to remember that feeling and for it to be because of me."

Silver hands tightened over Flint's biceps. "Why?"

"Because the next time you feel that power, the next time you kill someone or you command someone to do as you will, I want you to think of me. I want you to remember that I'm your anchor, that _this_ ," he said and his eyes were intense on Silver's, " _this_ is something we share."

"Fuck," Silver cursed, and proceeded to divest Flint of his shirt, almost clawing his way into Flint's chest. "Yes, I want that," he admitted.

Silver traced a wet path through Flint's neck while he toyed with his nipple. Enjoying Silver's ministrations, Flint had enough mind to grab the oil from the drawer. Of seemingly one mind, they walked to the bed. They fell together onto it and undressed each other in a hurry, throwing the clothes and peg leg to a side. They kissed and grabbed at each other with possessive hands, mutual darkness that wanted to claim each other.

It wasn't until Silver felt Flint's fingers tracing around his entrance, that Silver used his strength and turned them around in one swift move, using the surprise of the movement to grab both of Flint's hand and held them against the bed at each side of his head. Seeing Flint's questioning, if slightly amused, expression, Silver spoke.

"You said you wanted me to feel the rush of power," he whispered dirtily, staring directly into Flint's eyes, "so you will do as I say. You'll obey me just because I commanded you to." Flint swallowed. "Is that understood?"

Flint nodded, unable to form words.

"Don't move your hands," Silver ordered him.

"Yes," Flint said in a breath.

Silver smirked, he took away the oil bottle from Flint and poured some oil into his hands. He fixed his eyes on Flint's face to not miss a single shift in his expression, and reached down to his own entrance. Flint's eyes widened slightly when he realized what Silver was going to do, to anyone else, he may have seemed unaffected, but not to Silver. That was the matter, they knew each other, they held each other. So Silver could tell what was going behind Flint's face.

He finally pushed the first finger in and he couldn't hide a hiss, mix of pleasure and pain. " _John_ ," Flint implored. But Silver just kept looking at him with heat in his eyes. He moved his finger in and out for a while until he added one more, and pulled out a moan out of him. "John, _please,_ " Flint begged, his hands clutching around nothing, extremely turned on by what Silver was doing just above him.

"You can _only_ grab the sheets," Silver conceded him.

Flint's hands flew down to grab the sheets, he squeezed them trying to keep still while Silver moaned. Flint was extremely turned on, loving each shift in Silver's expression. He loved the predatory intent in his look, loved what it meant, loved what it meant directed to him.

"Kiss me," said Flint, earning a glare from Silver, it was too close to a command, " _please,_ " he begged now so Silver complied.

It was sloppy, mostly open mouths sliding against one another and tongues coming occasionally to the meet. But it was perfect. Silver kept preparing himself, adding another finger. Finally, he deemed himself ready, so he grabbed the bottle of oil and after pouring some into his hand he stroked Flint's dick. He smiled devilish at Flint's badly-contained grunts of pleasure.

Silver felt big, he felt like a giant. Straddling Flint, holding him down with his eyes, being in control of his pleasure and what he could get. The power he had in this moment, while he lined Flint's dick to his entrance but didn't sink down, was enormous. The most feared pirate captain, a man who could kill with his bare hands, a man that could command an entire crew with just a look and who installed fear in civilized people's heart, lied under him still because he had commanded so. With a simple move, he could force Silver down onto him, have his way with him, but he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't do it because he had commanded him, because he respected him.

Silver felt as powerful as killing Dufresne had made him feel, but now, instead of death he wanted to create pleasure, so he sank down. Flint was half-way in him before he slowed down, savoring the last inches. He moaned softly in appreciation of both the warm dick splitting him open and the moan that Flint emitted that was a mix of pleasure and frustration.

After a few moments to adjust, Silver started moving. He went up and down slowly, finding out what he liked best, finding out what made Flint's hand twitch around the sheets while trying to hold himself back. It wasn't after a particularly desperate grunt that Silver took pity on him.

"You may hold me," he said slurring his words, "but _only_ hold me."

Flint's hands flied immediately to grab him. At first they were desperate, moving around his skin, indecisive of were to grab. Eventually, while Silver kept moving drawing out pleasure for both of them, one hand settled in his hip, bruisingly. The other one on the low part of his back, enveloping him in a half hug; it was stretched out, trying to touch as much skin as possible.

Flint felt as if his body wasn't enough to contain him. Being surrounded by Silver's heat was always magnificent, he would never get tired of it. But the sight of Silver moving over him, taking out his pleasure as he wished so, completely in command, that was a gift right out from Heaven. He hadn't been able to give up control like this for so long, the ability to trust someone so much like this had been lost to him since he became Flint, not even with Miranda he had been capable of it. It was in this display of power from Silver, this meeting of souls in the middle of the darkness that Flint realized the name of what he was feeling.

Or maybe, it wasn't as much that he had realized what it was as it was that he couldn't deny it any longer.

"James," Silver breathed, he was able to see that emotion written in Flint's face.

He could see it and he didn't like it. Because it meant admitting what they had between them, it mean accepting with no room for argument that there was something to be lost and missed. Because Silver didn't want to feel what he was feeling, that matched the shine in Flint's eyes. He didn't want to because he knew that their story was already written and it would eventually end in nothing more than tragedy.

Silver knew he was going to end up with his heart broken, and he didn't want that.

Trying to hide himself from this wave of raw emotion he fastened his pace, trying to drown his feelings under bolts of physical pleasure. His skin shone with sweat and his hair sticking wet to his face in dark locks. Hus pleasure built up inside of him until he wanted to scream it. Instead he closed his eyes and searched for Flint's mouth with his.

Unfortunately, his leg had suffered a lot of stress while killing Dufresne, and the continued abuse of his wound was causing him pain. He tried to keep going despite it, wanting to prove himself more than his bad leg. However, the pain was proving to be more than what he could endure, and despite what he wanted, he had to stop.

"James, I-" he started, but he voice broke with shame unable to spill out what he had to ask.

But Flint understood him. He grabbed Silver enveloping with his hands and turned them around. He only stayed still one second that he used to stare deeply into Silver's eyes before pounding hard into him. His thrusts hard and powerful directly into Silver's prostrate, which in a matter of seconds turned Silver into a moaning mess.

Because Flint knew exactly what Silver needed. He knew how he need to not think, to be lost in pleasure to not ponder around the implications of what they felt, about being unable to perform because a mad man with an axe had broken his leg forever.

To Silver, knowing how well Flint could read him, how he knew him, was almost as scary as if Flint had decided to go slow and sweet. However the pleasure was overwhelming, so Silver couldn't focus for long on something other than the hard slides of Flint's dick against his prostrate, of his skin against his. He then felt Flint's hand on his dick and he knew it was going to be over soon.

"James, I- I-" he said, but he wasn't sure how he wanted to end that sentence.

"I know, I know, _yes_ ," Flint agreed matching the speed of the strokes on Silver's dick with the strength of his thrusts.

Silver came with a shout, clenching on Flint's dick and triggering his release.

.

When their breaths had normalized a bit, Flint moved out of Silver and kissed him tenderly. Silver accepted the kiss easily, after his orgasm he felt more calm, he wasn't scared anymore, not of his darkness, not of what he felt. Acceptance had come over him, along with confidence that he, _they_ , would be able to endure whatever the sea may throw onto them.

"Did it work?" Flint asked him after he ended the kiss, a smirk adorning his features. "Will you be thinking of me the next time you make a display of your power?"

Silver laughed. "Oh, I will," he said. "And will you remember that this power translates into this? That in this relationship I have as much power as you do, maybe even more?"

"I will," Flint said with a dangerous smile, giving a brief kiss to Silver's lips. "As long as you remember how much power I actually have. That my darkness was born first."

"I do," Silver answered.

And no, it wasn't a threat, it was a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was what the previous part was supposed to be. But hey, later rather than never right. So with this is the end of this series. I had thought about writing a sequel around 3x10 but now I know my life will change drastically so I tried to wrap everything in this one. Maybe I'll write a fic around 3x10 but it'll be a new fic all together.


End file.
